


Accounts of a Broken Man

by Montana



Category: Shadowfell Trilogy - Juliet Marillier, Shadowfell- Juliet Marillier
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-17 04:43:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1374292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Montana/pseuds/Montana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snippets in time through Flint's perspective.</p><p>I suppose I was inspired to write this due to that fact that this day marks the book birthday (Australia and New Zealand) for the final installment of this trilogy, The Caller. (Happy book birthday, Juliet. I can't wait until it is released in the US in July.) </p><p>Characters and universe of the Shadowfell Trilogy belong to Juliet Marillier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Longing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flint watches over Neryn whilst she recovers from her illness in the cabin they share near Corbie's wood.

**Owen Swift-Sword**

The fire is burning low, I know I should get up and add more logs, but for some reason I am transfixed by the way the firelight plays over her face. 

We've been here for weeks now and that should worry me. It should worry me that I'm not worried. Despite the fact that Neryn has been near the brink of death for the greater part of our time together, I can't help but be glad that of all people, it is with her that I share this cabin. 

I was drawn to her since that night in the chancy-boat. It may have been the rumor that led me to Darkwater, it certainly was duty that brought me into that boat, but it is something else that keeps me here. I could have sent word to Shadowfell. Someone would have come to claim her, especially with my testimony, the rumors of her being a caller are true. But I did not send word to Regan and his rebels. I enjoy these stolen moments.

The light from the dying fire has dimmed so much that I barely see her. With a sigh, I push up from the bench and add more wood to the fire. 

I turn back to take my seat once more when I am stunned by the way the firelight plays over Neryn's face. The sight of her features startles me. She reminds me of a celestial being of myth, glowing in her white sleeping gown. I only wish it were safe enough to open the windows, to see how the moonlight were to play on her face. Laying on her back, she is propped up by pillows. There is a peaceful look on her face, much preferred to the way her brows were drawn together whilst the fever tormented her sleep. Her blond hair, splayed out around her, reminds me of the sand covering the beaches of the Isles. She is beautiful to me. 

I should not think of her in such a way. I can't seem to help myself. There is a gap between our ages. She is still young, not so young that she isn't capable of bearing a child, not old enough to be considered wise. I shake my head to rid my mind of such thoughts. Too long have I lived a life of emotional solitude, leading a double-life, neither one fulfilled. There is a growing need, a longing, for me to have someone, a special someone, to share my truest self. With each year that goes by, it becomes harder to separate the facade from the real me. There are few who know even a small portion of who I am behind the facade of the king's Entraller. I fear that with the end to Keldec's rule no sooner on the horizon, I will lose myself to the lies I've told. 

As I watch Neryn, I want nothing more than to crawl into that bed alongside her and take her into my arms.

I surprise myself with such thoughts. Reclaiming my place on the bench, I think back in order to pinpoint when this started, to try to understand why. But I know why. 

Despite Neryn's frail frame, her heart and spirit are strong. I see it in her eyes. I know a large part of her doesn't trust me, it is the small part that believes in giving people the benefit of the doubt that I find myself admiring, second to her will.

She murmurs something in her sleep and it sounds like my name, not Owen, but Flint, the name I've given her. My heart races at the possibility of her calling out for me in her sleep. It is enough to send a tingling sensation throughout my body. I drop my head into my hands. I don't deserve such an honor, not with the way I've treated her. I've lied about my intentions, I've mislead her in regards to my gift, even with knowing that it was another Entraller that ruined her grandmother. I'm not worthy of any trust she's placed in me.

Reaching Shadowfell will be the end of our time together. All the more reason that I should be distancing myself from her. The problem is, I can't bring myself to want to. As I sit here, I try to reason with myself that it will be acceptable to spend a few days among the people of Shadowfell, to reacquaint myself with Regan and those who follow him. I know in doing so, would only put my entire operation at risk. The thought of leaving Neryn pains me. It's too late for me, it seems. I've grown attached to this uncanny girl, for better or for worse. She can never love me and that thought is enough to make me want better for her. With all she's been through at her age, she deserves better than me.

I hear the creak of the bed and my head springs up. Her green eyes are staring back at me.

"Flint."

The sound of my name sends my heart racing again. It _is_ too late for me.


	2. Relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flint catches up to Neryn after she fled the cabin with the Good Folk. I'm borrowing dialogue from the book.

I hear voices coming from further in the cavern. I continue through the small tunnel. Light dances along the rock walls coming from a larger chamber. I approach slowly, curiosity and caution holding me back. The conversation within the chamber continues. At the sound of one of the voices, my heart races. Neryn. To hear her voice relieves me but also wakes me up. I had been so worried that she'd been taken. However another thought occurs to me; why would she have run from me?

I decide that I can't take it any longer and step forward into the firelight. 

The conversation halts. There is no one to be seen apart from Neryn, sitting in the far end of the cavern chamber. Scrambling to her feet, I notice that she is swathed in my cloak- not my Enforcer cloak, the one I wear when I am not a king's man. 

Her eyes are wide as her gaze lands on me as if she's surprised to see me. Did she truly not think I'd come after her? The realization that I might not mean anything more to her than the man who won her on the chancy boat sends a pain straight to my heart. 

"You're alive," I breathe out. Her face seems to soften. "You're safe." I need her to know that she is more to me than just a girl. 

A strange sound escapes her lips, like the sound a cornered animal might make. She takes a step back. Her lips remain parted. For a moment her lower lip seems to quiver. Does she fear me?

"Neryn, you can't imagine I would..." But the look on her face suggests just that. I lift both of my hands, palms toward her, to show her I mean her no harm. "You promised you'd stay. You broke your word."

She slams her lips together and swallows, the sound amplified in the small space. She tilts her head back, her chin defiant. "Where are they?" she says. "Your troop of Enforcers, the men you went down to the valley to fetch this morning? Outside in the cold, waiting for you to hand me over? Or are they in the tunnel listening, just as you were? How dare you try to lull me into thinking you're a friend?" In the light of the fire, her eyes seem to glisten. "How dare you speak of promises?"

"Neryn." I run my hand over my head. I see the hurt in her eyes, in her very posture, and it tears me up inside. I need her to understand that I'm not who she thinks me to be. It's just not safe to speak so openly. "I'm by myself. There's nobody waiting out there. Neryn, I thought you were...I thought you might be...hurt. Injured. Alone in the dark, up on the fells with no shelter." An anger grows inside me, not because of her actions but because of the emotions raging inside me at the thought of something happening to her. "What possessed you to go off on your own? I told you to stay in hiding!"

I glance around the room, partly because I can't let myself look at her. I need to calm my features.

I notice the peculiar placement of objects around the cave but I don't have a mind to analyze their existence before she replies.

"Is it true? Are you really alone?"

I sigh, the battle gone from me. She's confused and hurt, although I don't understand why. "It's true. I've been tracking you for some time, thinking any moment I'd find you lying under a rock somewhere, breathing your last. I have nobody with me, I swear it."

I see a small pot. The last of my anger bubbles inside me. "Unlike you. You have your own cook, it seems, and someone to cover your tracks. I nearly lost you."

A silence fills the space between us. Her gaze falls away from me, moving around the room. I don't like the words we've exchanged. I wish to salvage any connection we have left, if there was any to begin with.

"I have a supply of food." I work on controlling my tone. "My pack is outside. I see you have a fire of sorts. Are you hungry?"

Her gaze slowly rises to meet mine again. This time her expression is softer but I can tell I haven't won her over. Her eyes slide over me, assessing me. "What I want is a proper explanation from you, an honest one. Cook supper if you want, but talk to me while you're doing it."

"What about-" I stop. My usual control is harder to maintain around her. She's giving me a chance, I don't want to ruin it.

"We'll be on our own. You're carrying cold iron. In this sort of place, that's not likely to make you friends."

"Didn't you have a knife? I seem to recall giving you one, long ago."

"I seem to recall being apprehended and handed over to you as a captive." Her chin points towards me. I'm beginning to adore that gesture. "They took the knife, along with my other possessions. And before that, I-I kept it hidden."

I nod. Whatever it is she's hiding, she's protecting her friends. I won't press her on it. "You promise not to disappear while I fetch my pack?"

She says nothing but sits down. I watch her as she seems to contemplate her decision among herself. "I will be here, fool that I am."

A small smile finds its way on my face. I don't let it stay long before I go to retrieve my pack.


End file.
